Convulsion
by Dorchester
Summary: Fate is one evil bitch, and people with plans are her favorite objects to toy with. This is a story about a confused young physician, and a patient with a mysterious past, both of them influenced by ill-tempered relatives. And, of course, there's romance, and most probably a happy ending - unless a convulsion happens. Slash, rated M for language and content.
1. Chapter 1

**Special thanks to my lovely ladies, Lou and Nancy, for pre-reading and betaing. Most of all, for the increddible support.**

**So, here we go with this new one. **

******Convulsion [second meaning]: a violent disturbance.**

**Stephenie Meyer owns the original characters.**

**Chapter 1**

Plan A: Graduate from Forks High School, leave for Seattle, sing lead vocals in a Glam-rock band, hit the charts, become a celebrity. By the age of thirty-five, marry the most devoted and good-looking fangirl, become the father of 2.3 adorable kids, and live a happily ever after in a luxurious, artistic, but warm and cozy house far-far-away from your stupid home-town.

**_Zap!_**

Did you hear that? It was the sound of paper sheets being shred into ugly pieces. In this particular case - my wonderful scenario, ruined by Fate, while she smiles her wicked, triumphant smile.

So, dear friends, welcome to the reality of Plan B: I am a physician, following in my father's footsteps, living a boring, or should I say, mundane, tedious, routine, dull, colorless, unexciting life. To top it off, the devoted wife and adorable kids are out of the schedule, considering I highly appreciate men's body parts; women's - not so much, thank you.

Yup, I am a gay man, in my late twenties, and I still live with my parents in my stupid home town of Forks, WA.

Got the picture?

I still don't get it, to be honest, but obviously, that's the way things happen. Fate is one evil bitch, and people with plans are her favorite objects to toy with. And still, as the same old song goes on forever, us little fools called humans keep struggling and trying to prove Fate wrong. There has to be more to it than this, we repeat to ourselves, and dream of _less _of the boredom, the mundaneness, the tediousness, the routine, and the dullness, and _more _of the color and the excitement. There just has to be _more…_

My parents, they don't believe in Fate. They actually never think about it. They simply live their share of living, breathe their share of breathing, eat their share of eating, work their share of working... and have already bred their share of breeding - thus bringing me, Edward Anthony Cullen, out to the bright world.

Erm, there's one more detail to the whole "outing" thing. It's that they don't know I'm gay - but I intend to tell them. Soon. Honestly.

Dad and I work in the same hospital. You've guessed that right. We work different shifts, thank God, so he doesn't see how I try to repel the nurses, or how appalled I am when one of them decides to venture hitting on me. My, oh my, you should see their faces when I reject suggested dancing, movie nights, or any other type of dating whatsoever. _What a dumb idiot_, I hear them say, _too bad he's soooo good looking_. They know nothing about me. I'm actually intelligent, witty, and all-in-all gorgeous, it just doesn't show on the surface. Ha ha ha.

Shit.

Am I ever going to find a single person to see through me, some day? This year, maybe? Or at least next year? Please? Nah, that bitch up there, she's especially evil towards me these days.

Because, you see, I have that one patient… he is.. ooooh. Wait, I can't really find my words right now, and 'ooooh' doesn't even begin to describe him. He has the type of unearthly beauty you only see on a magazine cover, and yet, he is absolutely real, breathing his calm breaths in a hospital bed, surrounded by beeping machines, in the semi-darkness of his isolation.

He's alone in a room, which makes me glad - when I stand by his still figure and ogle, nobody sees. He doesn't see me either; he has been sedated for days because of his illness. The man is in very poor condition. Almost every bone in his ribcage is broken. If he wakes, he will be in terrible pain. So I prescribe that he sleeps for a few more days.

_You won't wake up, not yet, Jasper_, I speak to him in my mind.

Because he needs time to recover, and I need time to ogle.

His lips…

I don't know how to explain this. Have you ever seen food that looks so delicious you don't even want to start eating? Maybe just lick a little and keep the taste on the tip of your tongue forever? That's what his lips are. I believe they will be the most delicious thing ever to have existed. I do want to lick them. Very, very gently at first. Just barely touching, tracing the masterpiece of their outline with my own lips, hoping to hear his breath in my ear. And then, at some moment, I would devour the delicacy.

And eyelashes…

Faces in kids' paintings have those curled and exaggerated lashes, and Jasper's are almost that long. They are the longest lashes I have ever seen. I can only imagine what his eyes will look like when he opens them at last, surrounded by that exuberance of little, curled, and oh-so-delicate hairs.

For now, I can only sigh and imagine. I bet his eyes are blue, and he will look angelic. Shit, I will not be able to gather my thoughts once I look into those eyes.

And his form…

My look often runs over every curve of this body. Over. Every. Curve. Because those curves are worth looking at. And that one time when I lifted the end of the bedsheet… I was scared; if they caught me, it would be the end of my career, of course. But I did it, because I couldn't resist. _When _I did it, I couldn't stop staring at his penis until I felt dizzy and nauseous. Although I hated myself, I also congratulated myself - I could die a happy man right then, having seen a wet dream in flesh and blood.

Then I spoke to him for the first time. "Fucking gorgeous," I said into his ear, and I was totally screwed, because he responded. More precisely, his form responded to my voice, the one form in the middle of his body which I had just stared at. The white sheet was significantly tented. I was almost dead.

Dad is so grateful to me lately. I told him I realized he had very little time with Mom, and offered to take some of his shifts. So, these days, I spend more time in the hospital, which allows me more time with Jasper's prone figure.

But today, when I'm headed to the room where I intend to do some more ogling, that bitch up there decides to give me the finger.

"It seems we're losing him," a nurse says, pointing at Jasper's door.

Wait, what?

He's supposed to recover, and I will wake him up soon!

How come we're losing him?

I look up to the ceiling, hoping I can focus on the right direction.

_I'm going to win this one, bitch. He's not dying on me._

While I try to comprehend, and stand with my feet rooted to the floor, two women appear out of said door. They are quite the opposites, one of them tall and blonde, and the other one short, with black, spiky hair. The nurse turns towards the noise of their heels clicking in a cacophony over the marble floor while the two women approach us. The nurse introduces them as the sister and wife of my patient, correspondingly.

I'm straight to the point. "Nurse Stanley, are there any complications with our patient's condition?"

"Oh no, Doctor, but his wife here says she wants to find medical care elsewhere. They want to transfer him to another hospital."

I turn to the wife, measuring her five-feet-two delicate frame, and hate her instantly.

"Why didn't you contact us, Doctor? We would have chosen another facility." She speaks in a tiny voice, but there's something to it… Maybe she's tired, or worried about her husband. Or she hates me, too.

_The question is, how do I get rid of the body after I murder the pixie._

_Shut up, Cullen, the man has the right to be happily married._

"He was brought here unconscious and hasn't woken yet, Mrs. Hale. We haven't found any information on him except for a bunch of business cards, stating the name of Jasper Hale, business manager at Hale Enterprises, Seattle. We assumed it was him. No other contacts."

"But his phone, his wallet…" She's persistent, but no, there was no such thing. They must have been stolen from the scene of the car accident when he was injured. I tell her there was really no way to contact her. She looks to be calming down.

"Good thing the police investigation led to us then, huh?" This is the blonde talking. _I have to get rid of her body, too._

"It sure is, Madam. It's good for him to be with his relatives when he wakes."_ I'd rather be the only one beside him when he wakes. I want to look into those eyes at last, and I don't want witnesses if I act weirdly._

"Why are you keeping him sedated, Doctor, I have to ask?"

Nasty pixie. And a good question.

I have to persuade them moving him out of here is the worst possible idea. That they should not disturb him, not even move around him. After a twenty minute conversation, they get the point, and I'm granted a couple more days with the sleeping Jasper.

When they leave, I have the time to think the whole situation over.

Well, a _wife_.

But his _body _did respond to my voice. Is there a chance that he...

_Wait and see, Cullen._

Once again, I'm headed to the semi-darkness of Jasper's isolated room. I'm running late giving him his sedatives.

**A/N: Come on now, I need your thoughts. Please review. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Time for an update!**

**Once again, my love goes to Lou and Nancy, thank you, ladies.**

**SM owns.**

**We had Doctorward being late with Jasper's sedatives at the end of chapter one. You guessed that right, Jasper is awake!**

**Chapter 2**

He stares at me groggily, and, of course, his eyes are blue. It's the blue of the ocean depths, not the blue of the azure skies. When he turns his head to the side, those eyes look nearly black. They make me weak in the knees.

He shudders and exhales a loud breath.

"Where am I?"

"Um, hospital." _How clever of you, Cullen. _

_He could have begun with a 'Hello', though._

"Oh. I can see that, I'm not blind. Which hospital?"

"Forks Community. In Forks." _Another peak of cleverness, Cullen._

"Forks, Washington. Yes, I remember arriving in Forks, Washington."

He frowns, the deep canyon between his eyebrows ruining his angelic features. He probably remembers the accident now. I need him to be calm, so I decide not to ask him any questions.

Or maybe he's in pain, yes, most probably he's in pain. Too bad I was late to add the prescribed medicine to his IV.

I realize I haven't replied. What to reply to a statement like that?

"Do you remember your name is Jasper Hale?" I blurt.

_The Dumbass World Cup goes to Edward Anthony Cullen! _Now _he definitely remembers, even if he hasn't before my smart question._

"Of course, I do." He's still frowning and gulps several times. Tiny droplets of perspiration gather under his hairline.

I'd better put an end to this torture. This is not a conversation. He's incoherent because of the pain and the flood of memories. I'm incoherent because of those ocean blue eyes surrounded by the exuberance of small, curled, and oh-so-delicate hairs.

"Hurts, huh?" I ask, approaching his bed. He nods, and I notice his jaw clench. "You have serious injuries, but nothing vital. I'll give you something for the pain." With that, I add the sedative. Takes a second or two before he passes out.

My knees buckle and I find myself sitting on the floor.

This is wrong. All wrong. The whole waking up thing.

_You, bitch,_ I hiss at the ceiling.

~"~

That day, and the next, I'm on autopilot. People need to repeat whatever they say to me, because I never hear them the first time. I catch myself staring out the window, seeing nothing. My mind stays blank until I get startled by the striking thought that I'm running out of time, and I have no idea how to keep him here, with me. Each passing hour is an enemy.

"... here to see you."

"Huh?" There it goes again. Nurse Stanley has been speaking to me and I can't even form a word.

"I said, Mrs. and Miss Hale are here to see you, Doctor." Her concerned look is actually not comforting.

"Ah… thank you. Send them in, please."

Too soon, the pixie bitch and the blonde bitch are in my office, sitting in chairs across from my desk.

_Wait a minute, Cullen. You have NO right to hate these women. They're his family. He probably loves them. _Yeah, but I hate them. They're going to steal him away from me tomorrow.

"Nice to meet you again, Doctor." The blond one is polite. What was her name again? Rosalie, right. The sister. They do look alike, my Jasper and her; the hair color is the same. Only his hair is shorter. And looks softer. The eyes are the same color too, only his are deeper...

Shit, she's speaking.

"... tomorrow morning?"

"Uh, I beg you pardon?" She has to repeat. She owes me that, at least.

"I was asking, what time should we be here for when he awakes tomorrow morning?"

I'm seriously debating lying about the time, but no, I'm not that kind of person.

"Oh, right. Nine a.m., I guess. We can't predict the exact time."

"How is he doing, Doctor?" Well _I'm _doing fine. I actually heard the wife's question without needing her to repeat.

The caring wifey is concerned. _Of course she is, dumbass, she's married to him._

"The latest tests show he's healing and recovering as expected. He'll need to rest for at least a month, and take painkillers on a regular basis, but he'll be fine."

"So, we can move him after tomorrow?"

_No, you can't! You shouldn't!_

"Yes, you can. Just be very careful."

I can't believe I just said that. But again, that's the kind of person I am. Always honest with the patients and the relatives. Fuck me.

"Thank you, Doctor. See you tomorrow then," Alice, the wife, says. And they leave.

I've taken a forty-eight hour shift, so I can be with him during the night.

I stand by his bed, still as a statue and barely blinking, drinking in his unearthly beauty for minutes on end. Then, I remember a thought from the day and move closer to where his head rests on the snow white pillow. I have to check how soft exactly those blond locks are.

I look at my fingers as they approach his hair. They're trembling. I have no idea why my fingers are trembling. My whole body is shaking, I realize. I try to still my hand, and finally touch a stray lock; the gold contrasting against the whiteness is alluring. I twirl it around my forefinger and bend my body. I feel the urge to kiss the gold, and so I do. It feels like silk against my lips.

"This is my goodbye to you, Jasper," I whisper. "Thank you for coming to Forks, Washington."

I try to smile in the semi-darkness of the isolated room, but I can't. I'm actually crying.

~"~

After a restless sleep, I'm awake and ready for the new day. It's nearly nine o'clock, and they will be here any minute.

The corridors, the stairwell, the windowsills, the curtains and greenery, are all blurry patches in my field of vision. Someone's little hand supports me on my way to Jasper's room.

"Thank you, Nurse Stanley," I manage when I recognize her by my side.

"You're pale, Doctor. Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

"I'm perfectly fine, thank you."

_No, I'm not. _

I see the wife and the sister, and my stomach turns. Burglars. They're going to deprive me of the only beautiful thing in my life. Duh. I guess I'm the loser in this case. Nothing can be done.

We enter the room, and we stand and wait. He wakes a bit earlier than expected. At first his eyelids flutter open and immediately close again. Alice squeals and lunges toward him. I pull her by the arm.

"Don't. Give him a minute," I warn. No, I'm not being selfish; she may really startle him, and we don't need a startled Jasper. She listens and stays rooted to her spot, one step closer to him than I want her.

The next time he opens his eyes, he's fully awake. He doesn't speak, but stares at his wife, and once again, frowns. I don't think it's from the pain this time.

"Alice," a single word escapes his lips, finally.

The lack of enthusiasm warms my heart. Wait, what's going on here? Is he not happy to see her?

"I'm here, Jazzy." The wife steps closer to him, and reaches for his cheek in an attempt to caress it. He snaps his head to the side, avoiding the contact. Whoa.

"How did you find me?" he hisses, facing the nightstand to his right.

"Let's not have this conversation in front of the doctor and the nurse, shall we, brother?"

Rosalie approaches the bed herself and grabs her brother's hand. "We're going to take you back to Seattle, and talk as much as you want."

Charlie Swan, Chief of the local police, is my savior.

He chooses this moment to appear through the door behind me.

The Hales are not going anywhere, he says. There's a police investigation running, and Jasper is the key witness. Chief Swan has a signed order forbidding them from leaving the city limits of Forks, Washington.

_For once, you're doing the right thing, huh,_ I speak to the ceiling. I must have said it out loud, because all heads snap my way.

I can't suppress my smile.

**A/N Okay, thoughts?  
Thank you!**


	3. Chapter 3

**You don't need my excuses, right?**

**Yet, I have to apologise for the lack of response to you reviews, and for the delay with this update. I haven't stopped loving you, my dear friends. Thank you all for your beautiful words.**

**Again, huge thans to Lou and Nancy.**

**SM owns**

Chapter 3

He stays. He's not leaving the Community Hospital. He's not leaving my world.

_He stays._

My shift is over, and I have to go, as I cannot do anymore hours at work because it's against the rules. I meet my father at the exit, and an idea pops into my head - I should make him my accomplice.

"Dad, I have to talk to you for a minute."

He knows about Jasper Hale, the man with the severe injuries to his chest. I tell him I've stopped the intake of sedatives, and the man is awake. I explain he needs rest, a certain schedule of painkillers, and no visitors. Dad agrees. The slight twitch of his right eyebrow indicates he has some questions, but he chooses not to ask, and nods in silent agreement.

"See you tonight, son, and we will discuss this further."

I don't want to think about his last words, not now.

I go home and sleep the whole day through, serenity ruling over me. I'm a happy man.

_He stays._

"Esme, I'm home." My Dad's voice is the first thing I hear when I wake up in the evening. He's home, obviously, announcing his presence to my Mom. My heart races. He's not calling my name, but I know he hasn't forgotten the upcoming conversation.

"Edward?"

Ah, now he calls my name, too.

"Anybody hungry? I'm starving! Come down here, let's eat something."

I hear the thud of his bag in the entryway. Then a single, low tone echoes from the living room. He must have pressed a key on the grand piano on his way to the kitchen.

_It's Mi in the contra octave. A rumbling Mi. A thunderous Mi._ I'm never mistaken about the musical tones. I'm never mistaken about Dad's mood, either. He's hungry, and he's angry.

We're seated around the table in the dining room. A small conversation fills the intervals between serving, chewing, and swallowing. It's a bit hard for me to swallow my food though. There's something like sand in my throat, and I wonder where it's come from. Ah, maybe it's the anticipation of the conversation which Dad hasn't started yet. Dessert comes; Mom has outdone herself. It's delicious, or at least, so they say. I can't taste the food.

"Son, you're perspiring. Do you have a fever?" Dad asks.

Oh? Really? I haven't noticed. I brush the back of my hand against my forehead, and indeed, it's moist.

"I'm fine, Dad," I manage through the last bits of food in my mouth.

He picks the napkin from his knees and gently dabs the corners of his mouth. First, the left side, then the right, with deliberate leisure. His eyes explore my sweaty forehead.

"No, you're not fine, son. You're in trouble." He speaks quietly, calmly. That's bad. Mom's hand flies to her mouth, three fingers pressing her lips and her pinkie sticking out in a funny way.

_Don't get distracted, Cullen. Dad says you're in trouble._

Now, I don't know where to look. Not his eyes, definitely not into his eyes.

"Carlisle Cullen!" Finally, Mom can't stand the silence in the room. "You can't drop a bomb like that, and then say nothing more."

"Esme, my love, our Edward here knows it's his turn to speak." Dad looks at me. "Don't you, Edward? Won't you tell your Mom and I why you've been so _unprofessional _lately."

The word feels like a slap in the face. The hairs at my neck stand, and I don't know where to shove the fucking spoon. They're scrutinizing me as if I'm in the third grade again and have just come home with a strangled kitten in my hands.

_It was Mike who strangled the kitten, not I, for God's sake._

"I'm in love with a patient."

I've said the words in a low voice, and still, they echo in my ears like a rolling thunder.

"No, Edward. You're _obsessed _with a patient!" Dad is shouting.

_Am I? Am I 'obsessed'? _

"And he has the audacity to ask me to keep visitors away from coming into the patient's room, while the man is recovering wonderfully and actually _needs _his relatives!" The shouting goes on, only he is now looking at Mom, not me. "Nurse Stanley informed me today, our son has been sneaking into that man's room and staying for hours at night, with _absolutely no reason_!"

_Nurse Stanley. That snake. No wonder she's married to Mike, who strangles kittens._

"Carlisle."

I've never heard such coldness in Mom's melodic voice.

"Carlisle," she repeats, more gently this time. "Stop shouting, please. The patient is a _man_?"

Dad hides his face behind his palms."Yes".

"You owe me fifty bucks then."

Now, she smiles and taps the rim of her plate with her forefinger.

"Yes, Esme. I guess you've been right all along."

Well, well, well. Outing - done, with Dad's help. Now, what? Do I see disgust in his gleaming eyes?

_What is that bitch up there doing with my life, again? I prefer to believe I'm in the middle of a nightmare and will wake up any moment now, any moment..._

There's no waking up from this; my father insists on going on with the conversation.

"So, back to the question, Edward. How dare you act so unprofessionally in _my _hospital?"

"I have no answer to that question, Dad."

I really don't. I have yet to find answers myself.

Am I in love? Or am I _obsessed_?

Somehow, I know I'll only clear it if I go back to that isolated, semi-dark room and meet Jasper again. I stand and make an excuse to leave the table. Dad stares at me, unbelieving.

"What? You're leaving? Now?"

"Yes, Dad. Now. I'll come back with some answers."

_I'll drive straight to the hospital and pretend I've forgotten something. _

While I turn the ignition key, a thought makes me freeze in my spot. What if he has alerted some Ethical Committee or whatever institution deals with unprofessionally behaving physicians? Or, what if he asks me to quit my job?

Oh shit. Shit.

It takes me a minute to gather myself together and pull away. My Volvo hums a soothing tune during the drive, and when I arrive at the parking lot, I'm almost composed. Almost.

_Are you awake, Jasper?_ My mind rushes ahead, picturing me at his bed, reaching for his hand, holding it. _Do you think I'm obsessed, Jasper?_

**A/N: Do you think he's obsessed? Please review, I need your thoughts.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Special thanks to my lovely ladies, Lou and Nancy, for pre-reading and betaing. Thanks to all of my readers who have shared their thoughts.**

**Stephenie Meyer owns the original characters.**

A/N: I'm working 12 to 14 hour shifts these days and I know I won't be able to post tomorrow, so the update comes a day earlier. Hope you enjoy.

~"~  
_Previously:_

While I turn the ignition key, a thought makes me freeze in my spot. What ifDad has alerted some Ethical Committee or whatever institution deals with unprofessionally behaving physicians? Or, what if he asks me to quit my job?

Oh shit. Shit.

It takes me a minute to gather myself together and pull away. My Volvo hums a soothing tune during the drive, and when I arrive at the parking lot, I'm almost composed. Almost.

Are you awake, Jasper? My mind rushes ahead, picturing me at his bed, reaching for his hand, holding it. Do you think I'm obsessed, Jasper?

**Chapter 4**

I have enough brain cells in my head to know I can't start a conversation about obsessions with a person who has barely seen me. In the morning, after inquiring about the patient's condition, Chief Swan expelled us all from the room for the sake of the investigation's quick success. I've had no verbal exchange with Jasper since the wrong awakening two days ago.

My temples throb with an uninvited headache. The car engine is still running, and there's a second or two during which I am ready to hit the gas pedal and disappear, back home, or better, into the woods, or maybe to Canada to find a new life. I squeeze the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white - pale white, unhealthily white. Something makes me look at myself in the rear viewmirror, and the same unhealthily white color has rendered my face hostile. It's frightening. I look frightening. My eyes are not their usual green, but a dark, indescribable color, alien. Maybe it's the poor illumination?

_You can't go in looking like that, Cullen. Get your shit together._

A loud rumble of thunder sounds somewhere near. A car alarm across the lot goes off, and it starts raining, fat raindrops splashing over the car window and blurring the outlines of the hospital. With the downpour, I'll enter soaking wet, and no one will notice my paleness. Probably.

Right.

At last, I'm ready to kill the engine and step out.

When I enter the hospital, the receptionist waves at me and smiles hesitantly. I wave back.

Good girl, no conversations. So far, so good.

I stride down the corridor with the quickest pace possible, trying not to look like I'm consciously rushing. There's the door, and there's the door handle.

_Use your hand, Cullen._

Fuck. I can't.

_Yes, you can. Just go in, look at him, and analyze what you're feeling. Then talk, if he's not asleep._

How stupid am I? I have to knock first.

I square my shoulders and produce the tiniest knock on the door.

"Come in?"

The barely audible answer sounds more like a question. Okay, I should go in. End of hesitation.

I push the handle.

I have no time to look at him, nor analyze. He suddenly jumps out of his bed, pulling the IV out of his arm and knocking its stand to the floor, producing a horrid noise. I blink and stare until he doubles up with pain, and that's when I rush forward and hold him in my arms. My knees buckle under the weight of his shaking body, and I sit on his bed. I hold him, but he tries to wriggle his body out of my grip. I don't know what to do with him, so I let go, and he falls to the floor, sitting in a helpless mess, his back leaning against the nightstand.

He whines, and tears stream down his cheeks. He stretches out his arm in a feeble attempt to push me away when I fall on my knees next to him. I'm stronger, and I grab his shoulders. Maybe I shake him slightly.

"What the hell is going on?" I try not to shout.

"Fuck you," is the only answer I get.

Something's very wrong here.

"I beg your pardon?" I can't believe my eyes, my ears, anything. "Why?"

He looks at me, those droplets hanging from his eyelashes tearing at my heart.

"Are you not the perv who has abused my body every night since I was brought here?"

What the hell…

"Who told you that?"

I think I know. It's the snake who's married to the man who strangles kittens. She must be really mad at me for not giving in to her charms a few months ago, when she pressed her indecent cleavage into my arm and asked if she could check my blood pressure. I told her back then I had no blood pressure and pushed her aside. Now she hates me, obviously.

"Doesn't matter who told me what, I remember your creepy face from two days ago."

Sort of disappointing, huh? This is not the conversation I've been hoping for.

"Wait, Jasper, erm, I mean, Mr. Hale. I am your doctor. I've done nothing wrong. Someone has misinformed you."

How I manage to keep my voice low is beyond me. He hugs his torso, suppressing his pain, and snorts.

"But look at you! You do look like a lunatic, dripping water all over the place, pale as a dead man, and it feels like these eyes of yours are drilling a hole in my forehead. Go away. Please. Maybe you're not a monster, but still… I don't trust you."

_And maybe I am a monster._

I stand up and outstretch my arm. His pajama clad figure curls into himself more.

"At least I can help you get back to bed." I use my calmest voice.

He seems to consider my offer and loosens the grip around his chest. Taking a few deep breaths, he tilts his head and looks me straight in the eye.

"I can sense a positive vibe coming from you. You mean no harm."

"No, I mean no harm. I even think I'm in love with you, but that's another question."

His eyes grow unbelievably wide. Without speaking another word, he takes my hand and makes an effort to stand up. The pain must be excruciating, and he gives up with a grumble. I bend, grabbing him under his arms and supporting his torso, and lift as quickly as possible, taking all his weight on me. The outcome of my abrupt action is we're standing upright, and I'm embracing and pressing him to my chest. My nose is buried in his hair, and his nose is buried in the curve of my neck. Which is absolutely perfect, until he roars into my ear. Oh shit, he's in pain. Or irritated. Or both.

A minute later, while I straighten the sheets along his legs, he speaks again.

"What did you mean by that last thing you said? Which is… erm… another question?"

_Okay, here we go._

"Okay, here we go," I repeat out loud. "I need to look at you for a couple of minutes. Lay still and don't speak, please. Is this okay?"

He nods.

I look. I see the same things I've always seen.

The angelic features. The toned body. The silk of his hair. All perfect. But there's more to it, something invisible. It's like he's wrapped in a layer of magic, vibrating at a frequency above human hearing and almost palpable. It's like his personality radiates electricity, creating a magnetic field which draws me in. I can feel it even stronger now that he is awake.

"That's it, I'm ready. Now, I'm sure."

"And...?" His eyes are that wide again, unbelievably.

"And, yes. I do love you."

He stops looking at me, finds a spot on the ceiling to stare at, and moves his lips in an inaudible phrase.

"Who are you talking to?" I ask, smirking. No way, he's communicating with his Fate, most probably cursing at her.

"Doesn't matter. Look, I don't even know your name."

"Right! I didn't get the chance to introduce myself this morning. I'm Edward Cullen."

"And you know my name already. Well, Edward Cullen, get the fuck out of my room, immediately, or I'll scream."

**A/N:** And here I'm asking for your reviews.


	5. Chapter 5

**I love this moment, time for an update.**

**I'm not only working a lot, I'm also recording an album and the studio time is already taking its toll on my social media life. HUGS and KISSES to all who review my attempt at writing, even anonimously, I LOVE you. Sorry for caps-screaming, but I DO love you.**

**SM owns.**

**Lou and Nancy are still my super heroes. **

Chapter 5

~~~~* Lyrics inside: "All You Need Is Love" by The Beatles from the "Magical Mystery Tour" LP (1967)~~~~

"...Well, Edward Cullen, get the fuck out of my room, immediately, or I'll scream."

Oh… no! No, no, no.

What now? I've lost my ability to speak. My headache morphs into the thumping rhythm of a tribal dance, and the drums are killing me.

Well, I do have blood pressure, Nurse Stanley, I can hear it. Sounds more like ventricular tachycardia.

This is awkward. He has narrowed his eyes, waiting for my reaction, and there's none. Not until I hear a commotion behind my back, in the corridor outside the closed door. There's an exchange between excited voices, and wheels screeching over marble. A door is opened, then forcefully shut.

"On three!" I hear the order, and I assume they're transferring a body into a hospital bed.

Shit. They might need me.

I'm not even wearing scrubs, but this sounds like an emergency and I don't know if one of my colleagues has taken over. I have to go.

"I'll be back, Jasper," I say over my shoulder and step out of his room.

I hear the voices nearby, so I head to the nearest door to my left. I peek in, seeing a paramedic and my colleague, Dr. Gerandy, examining a dark-skinned schoolboy with a bleeding laceration on his head. The kid is young and scared, but conscious and in good hands, so I relax and retreat.

Down the corridor, near the entrance, the triage nurse stands, her hands thrown in a helpless gesture. She watches as the doors in front of her open and two more paramedics appear, carrying what looks like a woman's body in a stretcher. I run towards them to see it's Isabella, Chief Swan's daughter, a plastic collar with an uncomfortable chin piece securing her neck. She looks terrified, but is conscious, too.

The nurse directs them to another empty room. I stay.

"Who's taking her?" I ask, hoping my help won't be needed.

"I called your father. I thought you'd already left, Dr. Cullen. There's been a car accident again and we're short staffed."

There aren't car accidents on a daily basis in Forks. Even two in a week is far more than normal. This is strange, but such things happen. Without a second thought, I give instructions for blood tests, an EKG, and an ultrasound for the girl, and leave.

I'm back in the dark parking lot in the rain until I see my father's Mercedes approaching. He pulls up and steps out of the vehicle a few yards away from me. The small puddles on the asphalt add a funny, splashing noise to his footfalls when he walks my way.

Dad has an umbrella and covers both our heads before he speaks. "How are you, Edward? Your Mom and I have been worried about you and your loving heart."

Ah, really?

"Dad. Cut the bulshit. You don't believe me."

"Do you believe yourself, Edward? Do you really believe you have feelings toward that man?"

I gulp, shove my hands into my pockets, then take them back out and clench my fingers into fists. No, I don't want to hit my father. I'd rather hit myself for being so hesitant.

The tribal dance rhythm thumps again. There's a train whistle too, drilling my temples.

"I love him, Dad." That poor head of mine is going to explode.

"But son, it's not possible. You don't know him, at all."

"I don't. But I believe I can define my own feelings... Do you… do you despise me, Dad?"

"No, Edward. I don't despise you. I only think you're making a terrible mistake." He puts a hand on my shoulder, then taps twice. "Now, I have a patient to attend to. You get some rest. Think it over."

I watch the umbrella disappear through the hospital entrance.

_Think it over._

Okay, I'm thinking. I'm thinking hard while I drive home. I'm thinking hard while I pass by the kitchen and wave to Mom on my way inside the house. I'm thinking hard while I undress and wait for the water to warm up.

I'm no longer thinking when I step into the shower and the jets hit my skull; that's when I let the tears stream down my face. God, I'm crying like a baby.

Then I remember Jasper's tears.

My beautiful man in tears. My beautiful, terrified, helpless man, crying like a baby, like I am now. I wanted to comfort him, I wanted to lull him into tranquility, I wanted to wipe away the anxiety from his angelic features; to protect him.

I lean against the bathroom tiles, red eyes watching me from the mirror on the wall. My jaw trembles in one last sob.

_Get your shit together, Cullen._

Yeah, but he hates me. 'Get the fuck out of my room,' he said. And he's married.

_Okay, but he didn't seem to be delighted by his wife's visit._

I'm not going to leave it like this. I have to know what's going on in his head.

So, in the morning, freshly shaven and smiling to the man in the mirror, I try to get my messy hair into a semblance of order. I put on my favorite jeans. I even sing along with the radio while I drive to the hospital.

"...all you need is love, rrrah-ta-da-da-da, all you need is love, rrrah-ta-da-da-da, all you need is love, love, love… love is all you need…"*

The lyrics are ancient, I smile to myself, but so true.

I'm a real ray of sunshine when I greet the receptionist. She has a genuine smile on her face, unlike the lady from last night. Oh, the world is a wonderful place.

I'm a happy person when I enter Jasper's room, realizing a bit too late I haven't knocked. It seems my mood is contagious, because he doesn't jump out of his bed. Instead, he fixates me with his ocean blue eyes and smirks.

"Ah, you're back," he says and lifts his chin up. "Took you a while."

"Look, um, don't scream." I hurry to explain my presence. "I'm not here to waste your time with my feelings. I just need to know a bit more about you. May I stay?"

"Please, have a seat, Doctor." He's deadly serious. "We really shouldn't waste time. I've been thinking… It's absolutely beyond me why you would say you were in love with me. I'm not even asking. But I need help, and I guess you might be the right person."

_Oh. Look at you, Jasper Hale, now you need me._ I sit in a chair near his bed and nod, signalling I'm all ears and willing to help.

"The thing is…" He closes his eyes and coughs to clear his throat. "Well... I think my wife is trying to kill me."

**A/N Yeah, I knew you expected that, didn't you? Tell me.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello my friends! Time for a new chapter. **

**SM owns.**

**Lou and Nancy rule!**

**Jasper says his wife is trying to kill him, uh? **

**Chapter 6**

I'm familiar with the results of his computer tomography. There have been no injuries to his head. Apparently, he's not hallucinating, so what the hell is he talking about?

"Are you mocking me, Jasper?"

He huffs. "Believe me, I wish I was."

"So what the hell are you talking about?"

"Do you want the long version, or the short one?"

"Try the long one. I think I can follow; I'm intelligent."

He raises his head from the pillow and stares.

" Good. You know I come from Seattle, right? Those business cards you found on me, they say it all. It's all about Hale Enterprises. She wants the company. I'm an obstacle."

He rests his head back on the pillow and licks his lips. I don't want to be distracted.

"That's the long one?"

"Just wait. I haven't even started.

"The story begins with my parents' death eighteen years ago, when I was eleven…" I quickly calculate he must be twenty-nine now, only a year older than me. "...and Rosalie was eight. They died in the same year. Cancer took my father's life, and grief devastated my ailing, delicate mother a few months later. As awful as their loss was, it was even more awful to live with my grandparents, who took custody of us. We moved to Texas, but I never got used to it. I missed Seattle. I wanted my life back, I wanted my friends, my school, my football team. I wanted my parents back. But I had lost it all. I turned into the most obnoxious kid you could imagine. I was the sulky, pouting brat to my grandparents. I was the pestering, bullying big brother to my sister. I acted unpleasantly toward my classmates and teachers, and was summoned to the Principal's office frequently. I had no friends, not a single soul to sympathise with me. My sister hated me back then. The worst part is she still hates me now, when I'm a completely different person.

"When I turned twenty-one, my trust fund was released. I moved back to Seattle and started a small business, selling second-hand car parts, then used cars. My small fortune doubled in a couple of years. After a too short period of success, times got hard and my car business faded. I risked all my savings on agricultural chemistry... No need to smirk, Edward, it was my golden egg. To cut a long story short, now I own a chemical plant and several stores. Oh, and I have some shares in the auto industry. I'm not a millionaire, Edward, but I'm not poor, either.

"When Rosalie turned twenty-one, she asked to join my business venture. I couldn't refuse, hoping our partnership would bring us closer and she'd forget how bad I was to her when we were kids. That's when we founded a new company and named it Hale Enterprises, considering we were co-owners with the same family name. That's what we are today; business partners, but not real siblings. We share nothing but a majority stake.

"Now, back to my lovely wife. She was Rosalie's first secretary. She also became _my_ first. Don't give me that look, Edward, I was not exactly the socialite by that time. She invited me to her place and showed me how much she liked me. She told me she'd been waiting for me all her life. She told me I was the one. We got married in a month, both at the age of twenty-four, and I loved her with all my heart. Until the first accident happened, that is.

"I was taking a bath, and she was drying her hair a couple of feet away. I said something funny to her, referring to her spiky hair and how it never went the way she wanted. By the way, yours beats the messiest I've seen, Edward. Anyway, she approached the bath, laughing, hair dryer in her hand, and dropped it. It hit the rim of the bath, and bounced back. I saw it with my own eyes. It happens, you'd say, but then I definitely saw her pushing it back in an attempt to make it slip into the water. Into the bath, Edward, where _I_ was _bathing_. Thank god, the power cord was too short and the thing got unplugged before killing me.

"She played it cool. She screamed, acting like she was terrified, hugged and kissed me, and tried to stop me from escaping the house, but with no success. I ran. I ran because I saw the glint of disappointment in her eyes when the dryer missed its target.

"I spent the night in a motel. In the morning, I'd already convinced myself I was imagining things, and I went back to her. That was in the second year of our marriage. Over the last three years, I've been subjected to hazardous defective appliances more than once. I've stepped on a stool with a broken leg while fixing a light bulb, and had a chandelier fall on my head. The odd smell of gas in the kitchen was the top of it, considering I was a smoker and I was just about to light a cigarette when I realized the stove was about to explode. I gave up smoking, Edward. And last week, I ran again. I needed time away from her and time to file for divorce. I randomly took I-5 , and there I was, in Forks, WA. Only to be hit by a truck in this hell hole.

"Ow. You're hurting me."

I look where he looks. My hand has been squeezing his forearm. I remove it and watch the white circles, indicating where the pads of my fingers have pressed, disappear.

"I'm sorry, Jasper, I'm sorry. For squeezing and… everything." I really don't know what else to say. I carefully take his fingers in mine and gently rub my thumb against the skin just above his nails. He pulls his hand free in a couple of seconds. Not before I felt the slight shudder .

"Don't do that... Do you believe me?" he asks.

Do I?

I realize Fate must be sniggering somewhere above my head, feasting on my bewilderment.

_You bitch, you've been really inspired with that man, huh? And here I thought I'd suffered._

Of course, I believe him. You have to believe the one you love.

"Yes, I believe you. How can I help?"

"I don't know. Take me out of the hospital. Hide me."

I can't just put him in a wheelchair and walk out with him, steering through the main entrance. I need a plan. How do you make a patient disappear?

Suddenly, I'm enlightened by the greatest idea in my life.

"Can you fake a convulsion, Jasper?"

He stares at me with those huge eyes once again.

"Um, no? What do we need a convulsion for?"

"We need several of them in a row. I guess I have to show you."

Saving the details of my plan for later, I lay on the floor.

"Look at me." I prepare to demonstrate the perfect, authentic convulsion.

This is the moment my Dad chooses to enter the room. Shit, it's his shift today.

"What are you doing on the floor, Edward?" His voice comes from high above my head, and he's looking down like I'm the dirt under his fingernails.

"Um, I'm showing a work-out to my patient." It's the first I come up with.

"Your patient who can barely move?" Both Dad's eyebrows are raised. I huff. "Step out of the room, Edward. I have to examine him."

I get back to my feet reluctantly. Yes, it's his duty. At least I know Jasper won't object if I come back later.

**A/N: You know I need your comments, right?**


	7. Chapter 7

Hi,

**Change in POV in this chapter. Gotta introduce Emmett!**

Thanks to my lovely ladies Lou and Nancy for pre-reading and betaing.

Thanks to Stephenie Meyer for creating these characters.

Chapter 7

**Emmett's POV**

"Holy Mother of Jesus!"

The bartender giggles, following the direction of my stare. There she stands, my dream girl. Stunning, head to toe.

"Hah," he snorts," don't even think about it. She's going to be your worst nightmare."

"Oh, c'mon, dude! Look at her, she's perfect."

"She does have the looks, but believe me, the woman is cold and heartless. Whoever approaches, she kicks them away; I've been witnessing how she gets rid of suitors for three nights in a row. She's fun to watch, you know, a little theatrical."

I concentrate on the amber liquid in my glass.

If the girl is as cold as ice, I could be the bourbon, and splash around her until she melts. Who knows, maybe it's worth the try. She's perfect, and I'm so bored in this godforsaken place.

I vacate the bar stool, grabbing my jacket in one hand and my glass in the other. She's found an empty table and chooses a seat. While she waves to summon the waiter, I'm already beside her and toss my jacket over the back of the chair next to hers. Her beautiful profile freezes in surprise, and for a couple of seconds, she doesn't look at me. Then she shakes her head, still looking away, and her long, golden curls bounce mesmerizingly.

"Beat it," she hisses.

I stay.

Make them feel insecure, that's what works with the chicks. Make them blush and fidget, make them second-guess their words. When you finally tell them you like them, they'll be grateful.

I put my glass on the table and bend, so I can speak very close to her ear.

"Name's Emmett, I'm here to melt you."

Before I even manage to withdraw, she stands, facing me, her hands on her hips. The ocean blue of her eyes gleams, her lips are pursed, and then her white dress is suddenly too close to my chest. I'm fascinated by the string of pearls rising and falling with her breathing. It's too close, indecently close - ah, and now she's pressing her boobs against my tee. Her boobs are actually sandwiched between us two, and, oh, shit, her hands grab my ass.

Next, she slightly scrapes the skin on my neck with her teeth, which is the moment I refuse to comprehend the situation. A very warm part of her body rubs against my groin, my cock comes to life, and I huff loudly. She licks where her teeth scraped before. I'm sweating.

"I believe you need the bathroom, _melter_."

I do need the bathroom.

I jerk off in the stall, calm my breathing, and step back into the bar, my chin low in defeat. I take back the stool I vacated earlier.

I need my glass.

Shit, I need my glass, and it's back there on her table. Screw the glass, I can have another, but then I remember my jacket is with her, too. Shit. I finally turn my head to make sure my jacket is still in place, and that _she _is still in place, but she's gone. My jacket and my glass are gone, too.

"I guess you need these," a voice announces somewhere behind me. My glass appears before my eyes, held by a delicate, manicured hand, and after that, my jacket appears in my field of vision. She steps around and faces me once again, only this time, I'm sitting and she looks at me from above. "Don't bother to thank me."

She's pure evil. She's wonderful.

Her retreating figure is enchanting. Those asscheeks moving under the white material sing a song for me.

"Told you." The bartender giggles once again. I'm about to snap at him when I hear the shuffle of a sheet of paper from where I'm squeezing my jacket. It's a hotel slip. She must have shoved it in my hand together with the jacket. There's a number written, and a name.

204

Rosalie.

I pay for my drink and immediately head to the hotel, knowing perfectly well where it is. It's the same hotel I checked in earlier today, only a block away.

I knock on door 204, and it opens while my hand is still in the air.

Rosalie grabs the collar of my shirt in her fists, pulls me inside, and kisses me, vigorously. Then she breaks the kiss and uses her toes to kick the door closed.

She's still wearing her white dress, and a minute later, she demonstrates there isn't any underwear underneath.

She's a goddess, all too perfect to be real; and yet, we make real love, repeatedly. She's passionate, inventive, initiative, kinky. This is heaven on Earth.

Then I ask her what's happening. Because this can't be real, not if she isn't after me for a reason.

And she tells me about her brother and his wife, who happens to be her best friend. It's a long and complicated story, and explains why she's been so careful in choosing who to ask for help.

"... I wouldn't ask you to do such a strange thing, but when my friend's life is endangered, nothing will stop me. What's more, if Jasper succeeds in killing her, I'm next. So, what do you say, will you help me?"

I say yes, because how do you say no to this wonderful creature? We agree on a meeting with Alice, her friend, the following morning. We will discuss her brother's "delicate mental condition", that's how she puts it, and the details of her plan.

An hour later, when I'm lying in my bed, alone in my hotel room, it comes to my mind that kidnapping a patient from the hospital is actually a crazy idea.


	8. Chapter 8

Oh, look! It's Thursday, time for an update!

As you know, SM owns the original characters.

Thanks again to my lovely ladies, Lou (Loopylou992) and Nancy (Harrytwifan) for the inspiring support.

For this chapter, I needed some extra help. I asked my fellow-ficwriter mamdmc to pre-read too. He's what I'd call a consultant; so, thank you for your time and advice, mamdmc.

Huge thanks to my readers: I'm paying attention to all of your fabulous reviews, and I'm sorry I don't have the time to respond. You're all asking the right questions, this is amazing!

Chapter 8

**Edward's POV**

The next time I visit, Jasper is asleep. He lies in bed with his unkempt blond locks haphazardly scattered across the pillow. As I approach him, I have the urge to grab at my golden treasure. With my fingers buried in the softness, I close my eyes and can't help but imagine him kneeling before me.

On the inside of my eyelids, the most mesmerizing documentary is projected. No visual effects or stunts are needed; it's the raw material of the two of us, Jasper and I, while he gives me head.

I grasp at handfuls of his gorgeous hair and tug, never letting go, showing him exactly where I want him. Allowing him to breathe for only a mere second, I fill him with my cock, hitting the back of his throat repeatedly.

Fucking Jasper's mouth is the equivalent of paradise on earth. The warmth and wetness send waves of immense pleasure to the core of my bones. My skin is hot, and my breathing shallow. I thrust forward, hoping my shaking legs will hold on to the end. I thrust, and thrust, and thrust, and he never flinches. I hear him moaning around my cock, his continuous sucking adding the sounds of moist skin rubbed against the softest lips. Those lips create a sweetly torturing vacuum around my swollen flesh. It's hard to breathe.

Trying to catch up with my rhythm, he gulps several times, the depth of his throat surrounding my tip like the abyss of the ocean encases the remains of the wrecked ship, creating its bed for eternity. I believe I have found the place where my cock can rest for said eternity - in his gorgeous mouth, forever. I thrust again, and then once more, with the best measured sway of my hips without leaving the contact of those wet lips. I tug at the golden silk once more, suppressing the scream in my throat. It's the moment when I come in_ his_ throat, and he swallows, oh, he swallows it all.

Ah, the silken, golden hair in my fist. Immaculate.

Shit.

My panting has wakened him, and when I open my eyes, he stares at me in the semi-darkness. His nostrils flare while he tries not to look at my other hand covering my bulging groin.

My ears are turning red.

"Don't be ashamed," he whispers. "I know exactly what you feel."

I see motion under his bedsheet, and it takes a couple of seconds to realize it's his hand sneaking to where his cock is prominent under the white cotton material. The hand crawls there, aiming to cover a huge erection.

Did you hear me shout my gratitude to Fate? Guess you didn't, 'cause I'd never do it out loud.

I shout inside my head though, face up toward the ceiling.

_Thank you! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'll never call you a bitch again! I promise! I'm sorry! Thank you!_

"Jasper, can I touch you?" I can't believe I'm this brave. But it's now or never, or I'm going to burst.

I see his Adam's apple move swiftly under the skin of his neck and immediately want to lick there. It only stops me that he's obviously thinking, and thinking hard, before he opens his mouth to say what seems like a life-changing sentence.

"I have no idea what's going on here," he finally speaks, "but I sense I'll be relieved if you touch me. Please, do."

And he closes his eyes, waiting for my next move.

My hand finds its way instantaneously and rests over the bulging sheet. His cock is now pressed under the weight of both his palm and mine, and I hate that the cotton material separates us. Maybe it's for the best, giving my inexperienced patient the chance to take one step after another, smoothly, and not get scared. So I choose the barrier of the cloth to be my ally, knowing the feeling of a rubbing thumb along a cotton-clad erect cock is actually sensational. I slowly and very gently push at the side of his palm, giving him a sign that he needs to remove it. There it remains prominent again, the ridge of his erection, slightly tilted to the right side of his stomach.

I use the pad of my thumb to trace the ridge. When I'm halfway up, his cock twitches under my touch.

_Oh yes, he likes it. He likes my touch._

I exhale loudly, only now realizing I've been holding my breath.

"I want to kiss you, Jasper. Please."

There's that Adam's apple, moving up and down , up and down again. The nostrils flare once more, but then he speaks, and there's no hesitation to his voice.

"I think I want to try it."

I'm on a mission. I need to kiss him delicately, not with the rising passion I feel inside me.

_You don't want to suck the air out of his lungs and scare him to death, do you, Cullen?_

So I do my best to be gentle. I brush my lips against his, ever so lightly, wanting to be like the breeze which caresses the ocean's surface. Then, like gliding a palm and trying to catch a tiny wave by the shore, I let my tongue trace the heavenly outlines of his lips - the upper one, then the lower one - until I feel the slightest of movement, and they are almost invisibly parted. I dip the tip of my tongue inside the sweetness. His lips are velvety, the tongue that meets mine is moist.

My groin throbs. A succession of light flashes block my vision, and I lose my eyesight for a long moment. I lose my ability to breathe, and I only concentrate on the thought that I mustn't suffocate him. I break the kiss the moment I feel I'm not able to control myself any more.

Oh my god.

Oh my god.

Oh.

"What's wrong, Jasper?" I see tears in his eyes, and they scare me. Did I somehow manage to ruin this?

"Why the hell do I like_ this_ so much?" He indicates my palm, which still cups his fully erect penis. "And why the hell do I like being kissed by a man? Does this make me gay?"

I have no answer. Maybe he's bisexual, who knows.

"This makes you my possible lover, Jasper. That's what I can tell. I can give you a blowjob for a start, and you can tell me if you enjoy it. Although there's no physical difference between a woman's mouth and a man's, _you'll_ feel different, believe me. We're gonna try it as soon as I manage to get us both out of here. Now, let's practice that goddamned convulsion."

"I need to know what you're planning, Edward." He speaks calmly. There's no trace of confusion in his voice.

"We need to get you to the ICU, which is very near the emergency exit. We'll find a moment to disappear. I'll take you home."

"So we need a convulsion in my record to explain why I'm back in the ICU after so many days of improvement."

"Right. Like I said, several convulsions in a row."


	9. Chapter 9

Well hello, my friends. Sorry I'm late with this update, I really am.

SM owns.

**Chapter 9**

"Okay, Jasper, talk to me."

I slap his face, twice, but he keeps shaking; the bed screeches. Saliva glistens over his right cheek, and his eyes roll up while he produces really horrible noises, his foot kicking at my thigh.

"Talk to me, Jasper, this is getting scary!" He's so authentic, my stomach is in knots. "Good, stop it! Stop!" I pinch the skin above his elbow until he groans and speaks, fixating me with his ocean blue, piercing gaze.

"That's unethical, Edward. You don't pinch a patient."

"It's also totally unethical to teach a patient how to fake illness. Now shut up and wipe that grin off your face."

He does this trick, with his palm hiding his face for a second and then falling down to uncover a tragic mask, the corners of his lips so low it hurts to look at him. In another movement, his palm goes back across his features, flying up and unveiling a happy smile, white teeth and the tip of his tongue on display, one eyebrow mockingly twitching.

"Looking at you makes me smile, Edward."

Jasper's eyes sparkle.

"And how so, Mister? Am I funny?"

"Yes, you are." At that, his smile fades and he's suddenly serious, even a little sad. "You're also very beautiful, Edward."

_Wait, what? _In fact, he spoke so quietly, I'm not sure I got that one right.

"What? What did you just say?"

"You're so beautiful it's offensive, Edward. And you're so effortlessly gorgeous, makes me feel envy and adoration at the same time. Does that make sense?"

He can't be serious. Yes, I've been told I'm a good-looker, but beautiful? Gorgeous? And coming out of his mouth? Does he not realize he looks like an angel?

"Jasper, when did you last look at yourself in a mirror?"

"Um, this morning. I shaved, did you notice? All by myself!"

"Oh… wasn't it painful to move around?"

"Ah, I didn't _move around_. Nurse Stanley brought me a Remington trimmer. Now, why would you ask if I've looked at myself in a mirror? Something wrong with my face?"

"Nothing's wrong with your face, silly."

I decide not to explain that he possesses a heavenly beauty. I have the feeling he won't believe me. Instead, I change the subject.

"Your face needs my kisses."

"I need to pee, actually." It's his turn to change the subject. He smirks and narrows his eyes.

"Okay, I'll bring a bedpan, just wait here." I get to my feet, but his voice stops me.

"I'm not going anywhere, but I'd rather you send a nurse."

His request makes me shift. Is he suddenly uncomfortable about showing his dick or what? He must be aware I've seen him nude already.

"A nurse? Why can't _I_ help you? I've been peed on, puked on, bled on, bitten, hit, and threatened. I'm a doctor. I'm your doctor."

"That you are, but you're also my possible lover, remember? I really don't want to pee on your hand. Urgh, this is embarrassing. Just send a nurse, okay?"

Something glistens in the corner of his eye.

"Okay. I'm going to find a nurse." I simply confirm and retreat, giving him the space he obviously needs.

I can resume the debate about kissing his face later.

The corridors are empty, except for a big, muscular guy. Judging by his looks, he's either a weight lifter or a fitness junkie. He's leaning against the wall a few feet away from where I stand, arms crossed in front of his huge chest. Something in the way he stares at me gives me chills, but I pass by him quickly, heading to the nurses' rest room. My man has urgent needs, and I don't have the time to ponder why that guy's been hanging in the corridor way after visiting hours.

I kill several minutes around the vending machine, selecting a soda and a Snickers bar, then go to the restroom myself. When I decide I've lost enough time of my life, I head back to Jasper.

The butterflies in my stomach are awakened by the thought of the approaching time of our escape. His health is improving with each passing day, and he will be ready very soon. The day after tomorrow looks ideal, simply because I can't wait anymore.

I have to handle this announcement carefully. He's so fragile and sensitive at the moment. I don't want to be inside his head right now. It's scary; he's gone through terrible things, half of which I probably don't even know, and I want to be a good person.

I remember a puppy I had when I was a kid, a golden retriever with the most amazing, intelligent eyes. My little, brave doggie knew me so well; he stood by my side when Mom yelled at me for what seemed like no reason. He barked at my Dad when he raised his voice when I was late for dinner; he lay still at my feet while I cried because I was disgusted by the cheerleader's bare chest exposed at me at that stupid party. My little, brave dog tried to save my life when I was about to drown myself in our swimming pool, after I had my first whisky at the age of fourteen - my first three shots of whisky to be exact. He tried to pull me out of the water, which wanted to suck me in. My drunken mind tried to get rid of him, imagining he was the enemy who wanted me dead on the spot. I hit him, I hit him hard, but in the morning he was again by my side, pleading with his eyes for me to excuse his non-existent mistake. He begged me to forgive his attempt to save my pathetic life. I tried to scratch behind his ear and gain his trust back, but he flinched and jumped away from my touch. That was the moment I hated my miserable self like I'd never had hated a living person. The look in my puppy's eyes was what broke something inside me, and made me swear to god to be a good person, always.

I was just a kid when I made my promise, but here I am, sticking to it at the age of twenty-eight, and trying to be a good person and not scare the living shit out of my patient by suffocating him with kisses.

I compose the words to announce that the date of our escape is set. I go through the corridor back to Jasper's room, barely registering the huge guy is now gone. Taking a deep breath, I press the door handle.


	10. Chapter 10

Hello!

It's not Thursday, but know I won't be able to post tomorrow - so I'm doing it today.

Lou and Nancy Rock!

SM owns.

* Lyrics inside: "I'll Be There For You" by Bon Jovi form the "New Jersey" LP (1988)

**Chapter 10**

I'm confused. Then, I'm nauseous. And paralyzed.

He's gone.

The bed is empty, sheets straightened. Nothing is beeping in the semi-darkness, no trace of the patient, not even his used glass of water. I can't figure it out. He was here a few minutes ago. He was here. No way he's been transferred - not without his Doctor's permission, which means, mine, and not in the evening. These things don't happen in the evenings.

Unless… unless we've seriously challenged Fate, and he's in the ICU for real.

Maybe he's dying. Maybe I'm losing him at this very moment.

_You… well goddamnit, you fucked up, crazy, evil BITCH, how could you!_

I weep while my body gives out, and I grab the bed frame for support.

"Looking for someone?"

The familiar voice behind me makes me even weaker in the knees. My ears get warm, and I suddenly realize it's so easy to breathe. I know this voice. I love this voice.

I turn to look at his feeble attempts to walk, using every possible surface for leverage. I'm so proud of him, but so pissed, bile is going to erupt from my throat.

"Why are you out of bed, Jasper?" I do my best not to shout. He looks so proud of himself too, although his features are somehow distorted, probably by pain.

"I couldn't wait for the nurse and ventured to the restroom. Didn't want to put a stain on those white sheets, you know." It's a pity he looks so content. I can't - simply can't leave it like this.

"Don't you ever, and I mean EVER get up without a doctor's permission, hear? EVER!" His pout almost makes me regret my outburst, but no, this shouldn't happen again. I really mean it.

"What's gotten into you, _Doctor_?" His eyebrows are raised. "It wasn't that bad."

"Let me explain. You can get yourself into the ICU earlier than planned. Is that reason enough?"

A short, noisy intake of breath indicates he's about to speak, but no words follow. He must have thought it over, I guess, and as he nods several times to whatever runs through his mind, he takes a couple of steps forward. When he's finally beside me, standing still in anticipation, it dawns on me he expects me to lay him down.

I let go of the bed frame and face him, our chests almost touching. I hear his breathing, and smell the trace of sweat coming from his neck. _I should bathe him… Oh… Focus, Cullen. _He takes my hand and retreats, his back turned on the bed, and I follow. Then he grabs at my elbow and sits, putting his weight on my arm, making me lean over. Now I can smell the sweat even stronger, and I wonder why it smells so good. Pleasant, and warm. Before I know it, he's pushed the sheets aside, and his palms crawl over my shoulders, locking at the nape of my neck. His weight makes me lean further until his head rests on the pillow, and he pulls some more. Our lips touch.

I don't dare to move. This is magnificent. Our second kiss, initiated by him.

No tongues this time, only several long moments of us connected in the most delicate of ways.

Then he unclasps his hands, which is a sign for me to stand up, reluctantly.

"You sorta overreacted, admit it," he says.

"Yeah. For a minute I thought you were dead. It was shocking. I love you, remember?"

"No, you don't love me, Edward."

"Yes, I do."

"But you hardly know me? How is it possible?"

He smiles, as if I'm a kid who can't figure out how to tie his shoelaces.

I stand silent. How do I explain this? Why don't they believe me? My mom and dad, and now, _him_?

"Okay, listen… There's a line in a song that plays in a loop in my mind._ 'When you breathe, I wanna be the air for you.'*_ I know people don't say things like that in their everyday life, but when I look at your lips, I want to be sucked through them. I want to be your every gulp of air. I want to be consumed by you in every way humanly possible, actually."

"That's called attraction, Edward." He purses his lips and looks aside.

I have nothing else to say. I only hope he'll understand, some day. Right now, there's no use in telling him that simply looking at him is blinding, suffocating, and exhausting. Yes, I'm attracted, why wouldn't I be? He's beautiful. The image of his lips wrapped around my cock sends waves of pleasure from the soles of my feet, up my calves, knees and thighs, straight to my balls and guts. The single thought of making contact with his body, penetrating him, makes me dizzy. I don't let myself think of that.

But there's more to it. True fact, I don't know him, at all. Yet, I feel like I've lived in his head for ages, hearing his every thought. I know his thoughts are beautiful, and his heart is beautiful. He's strong, and undefeatable, although he's suffered.

I'd stand in a bullet's way if that would save his life. I'd give my kidney, or any of my organs, if needed.

And I imagine growing old with him by my side.

I call this love. He'll understand, some day.

A soft knock on the door interrupts my chain of thought. Jasper has dozed off, but he snaps his head to the sound of the opening door. A nurse steps in, someone I've never seen; she must be new. She's carrying a clean glass and a bottle of water, as well as medicine on a tray.

"Oh, sorry, Doctor." She hesitates whether to come closer or leave, so I encourage her to bring the tray in and do whatever she needs to do.

"My name is Jane, nice to meet you. I just started today. Nurse Stanley sent me earlier with a bedpan, but I found no one. I didn't know if it was okay to make the bed while you were gone, Sir. I hope you didn't mind." She talks to Jasper. "Here, I brought you a clean glass, and your pills. I'm going to leave now." She puts the tray on the nightstand and walks by me, "Doctor," she nods, and then disappears.

The pills are in Jasper's mouth, and he's about to drink from the bottle, when I'm hit by a thought.

"Spit!" I shout. "Spit them out, Jasper!"

He spits, and coughs, and looks at me with those huge eyes.

"I haven't prescribed these!" I can't be calm, and I realize I'm shouting at him. The look of horror on his face is clear. I guess mine looks the same, but that was too many pills. "That amount, Jasper, would kill you."

I sit on the bed beside him, hold his hand, and stare at him for a long time. His breathing calms, and he looks me straight in the eye.

"I have to disappear. Quickly." He clenches the bedsheet. "I'm starting a convulsion, you call your colleagues to help, and witness, right?"

Once again, he lets saliva stain his cheek and his eyes roll up.

So, we have not time left. We're doing it now.


	11. Chapter 11

Hello!

It's Thursday, here's our new chapter.

Lou and Nancy Rock!

SM owns.

Hugs and kisses to those who review. Thank you!

**Chapter 11 **

**_One week later_**

**Jasper's POV**

"Will you shut up, Rose, please? I did like him."

She teases me about the last dream I just told her about, and I hate that smile on her face. Sometimes I think she's a first class cold-hearted witch, my younger sister.

"Stop it, Jazz. He's a nobody. You'll forget about him in a couple of months. Just in time for our next strike."

You know what? This time, it's all different. This time, in particular, I'm ready to swear Fate is one evil bitch. Things work out so well usually, but now I'm all messed up, and this is not good. Not at all.

_You're evil,_ I speak to the ceiling.

There were a few times during the past weeks when I thought _he_ did the same thing - looking up the ceiling and cursing to an unknown image of the force which draws the strings to our lives.

"Do you always have to fall in love with them, Jazz?"

She's mean, my lil' sister, oh, yes she is.

"I don't fall in love with them, Rose. That's not fair of you. I'm attracted, usually, and sometimes I fall _for_ them, but I don't fall _in love. _That's a different thing. You should know better."

Yeah, I'm trying to explain the miracle of falling in love to an iceberg. She's that hard, and that cold.

"Jazzy, honey, won't you take those boots off already?" Alice chimes, peeking through the door.

Ah, the annoying friend.

"Suck it, Alice. Mind your own business. I'll wear my boots till I die and that's nothing you can change."

I throw my cigarette out the window and puff the last wide circle of smoke.

"But you're ruining the furniture, Jazzy boy."

She squeals, 'cause I've just thrown the empty cigarette pack at her.

"Go eat some dick, whore. Leave me alone. I'll ruin the furniture as much as I like. This is a motel, for fuck's sake. We're not staying in this fucking rabbithole forever."

I do my best not to look at her any more. This creature I can't stand. If she weren't an important part of our charade, I would have strangled her with my bare hands. I just can't cope with this kind of girl.

Not that I cope with girls at all.

"Jazzy boy, you're mean."

She cried a river when her friend - and my sister - told her I was gay. It was her third day at work at Hale Enterprises, when Rose got angry with her friend's attempts to hook up with me, and shot the truth into her deer-like, huge, innocent eyes. Soon after the tears were gone, Alice asked if she could be my friend, and I said yes, I could use a friend.

We were broke, after all, why wouldn't I use a friend?

Alice also became a co-author of our plot. Which, in general, was to gain insurance payoffs after faking accidents all over the US. With our debts, and poor choices with investments, Rose and I had to come up with a quick, and 100% guaranteed source of income to make a living.

"I'm not mean, Alice. You do screw every living soul we meet on the road. You're a whore, and there's no other word for it."

She's trembling, and I like it. It sort of makes up for my unease.

"I'm looking for love, idiot, and you're a dick."

"Yeah, that I am, and a huge one, in fact."

_Yeah, I'm a huge dick but I'm looking for love__, too; which I'll never in my life admit to you, pixie._

"Stop messing with my friend, Jasper. What makes you so cruel today?" Rose gives me her best dagger-like look, and I'm pissed off again, and I want to hit the road and go live in a wagon.

Or go back to Forks and kidnap that boy-of-a-doctor, confess my attraction to him, take him to Texas and live in a fairy-tale where we fuck the living hell out of each other.

Yeah, not happening. God bless him, the innocent soul, he was so sincere in his desire to help me out.

"So why are you so upset about the Forks deal, brother?" Rose persists.

"You're asking me why I'm upset, sister? You, of all people? Did you not whine about leaving that Emmett guy? Hm?"

She's annoying, and I can't help but respond with the similar accusation. In my opinion, she cared about that bear-like fella.

"Yes, I did, but at least I didn't let him believe I was staying with him. You misled your guy in the ugliest of ways. And now you're regretting it, which is so low of you. Don't you remember what we agreed upon? No attachments! No attachments whatsoever, brother!"

At the end of the tirade she's shouting, and I can't look her in the eyes.

My fault. I got attached.

The guy was gorgeous.

"Well, not that I planned on it. I didn't know I was going to fall that hard." I'm defensive now, because I know she's hurting. Not as much as I am, though.

"Ah, now you're admitting it?" She looks victorious.

"Look, Rose, you know the Forks deal was nothing near to what we planned. I wasn't supposed to end up all beat up and unconscious, for starters. That Tyler Crowley guy, he fucked up badly. I was a wreck. There wasn't supposed to be an investigation to keep me there for weeks. And surely I wasn't supposed to meet that man and have the time to get _attached. _"

"If you love somebody, set them free." This is Alice, humming. Now she's standing beside me - I hadn't noticed she'd gotten so close. She sighs and closes her eyes for a second, playing romantic. Maybe she is romantic indeed, I don't know. I don't care.

"You know what the bad thing is, Alice? I don't want to set Edward free." It takes me a while to form my thoughts into a sentence. "I don't want to let go of that dream." Not that she knows what I'm talking about, but _I _know_. _It's that dream where Edward and I live together in Texas and fuck the living hell out of each other.

"You have to forget about him, brother. I'm sorry," Rose says, and comes closer to reach for my cheek. "You're pretty, we'll find you another one. A doctor, or an insurance agent, or a police officer, whoever comes in handy. They all look good, whether in scrubs, or suits, or in uniforms. We'll find you someone bigger." She sighs. I know she's thinking of her Emmett guy, the one who carried me out of that hospital.

"Rose, you're forgetting something."

Her hand stands still in the air, and her eyebrows quirk.

"I've never fancied the bigger guys," I tease.

Now we're both smiling. Alice joins, coming closer to us and raising her hand too, to caress my cheek first, and after that, Rose's.


	12. Chapter 12

**Hi! Yes, I know you're all confused now. Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me. We're reading some more from Jasper's POV today, and in the next chapter we will be back to Edward's story. Some things will become more than clear next Thursday. Until then, please enjoy the new aspect of Jasper's character *grins***

Special thanks to Lou (the very dear to my heart pre-reader), Nancy (the most supportive and irreplaceable beta), mamdmc (with another highly appreciated guest appearance as my advisor) and Stephenie Meyer (she created the original characters, remember?)

More special thanks to everyone who review, I need those comments, honestly.

**Chapter 12**

This is my third drink, and I'm already beyond hiding my real goal. I buy drinks for this guy, I like him, and his home-town adds to the beauty of the moment.

"You said you were from Forks, right?"

He confirms and raises two fingers. Showing the sign of victory, he puts the smile of a winner on his face. I rub his knee, and tap approvingly.

"What was your name again?" I ask. I've really forgotten, and it's not only because of the booze. It's more because he's so... insignificant.

"It's Riley," he says, "Riley Biers."

"Okay, Riley Biers, you coming?" Before I manage to put my empty glass down on the table, he's already standing, his face illuminated by a genuine eagerness. He may be a bit too young for my taste but I don't give a shit tonight, he's from Forks and that, sort of, makes him more desirable. And he has a cute face. Nice, plump lips and unruly hair. I'd gladly spend an hour or two with this boy, fucking his mouth, and his defined ass.

He leaves before me; I pay for our drinks and follow him outside the bar. He's leaning against the brick wall, the smile still resident on his lips. I approach him and align my body with his, slightly bending to whisper in his ear.

"Lose the grin. You'll probably be hurting a little when I 'm done with you." I let my palm slide under his leather jacket, crawling over his cotton tee, until I feel the little bulge of his left nipple. Then I harshly squeeze between my thumb and forefinger, and twirl, to show that I'm serious. I'm not gentle; I don't want to be gentle with him.

He's not smiling anymore but he's not trying to escape either, which is a good sign. What a nice guy.

I tug at his elbow, directing him to step on the asphalt road, and slap his ass lightly, hinting that he should move.

"There, around the corner. I'm taking you to my motel room."

He hesitates for a while.

"I'm not a sadistic psycho, don't worry." I want to make it clear for him. "I'm only going to fuck you thoroughly, and I hope you don't mind. I've been disabled for a couple of weeks, I have to catch up. Now, move along, if that's okay with you."

"But I thought we would... you know-" his fingers sway between his groin and my groin, illustrating his idea of the evening.

"No, you won't have the chance."

My next nudge at his elbow is feeble; I want to hide my excitement, but still he needs a hint to start moving. "Go, Riley. You'll love it, I promise."

His shoulders shift up and down while he sighs and takes a step forward. We walk in silence around the corner, down the path, until I show him my door.

"This is it." I unlock, and he taps his foot over the pebbles. "What is it, Riley?" He's still hesitant so my best disarming smile comes in turn. "Won't you come in?" I caress his cheek with my thumb and peck a kiss on his forehead to calm him down.

It works. He steps inside and asks for the bathroom.

Through the closed door, I hear the shower running for good ten minutes. I've already checked my supplies, it's all there in the drawer by the bed - well, all of it apart from the condom and my favorite waterproof lube in my fist. I've put my jacket on a hanger, boots neatly stored aside, clothes - including underwear - thrown in the hamper. My bare feet slap on the wooden floor when I approach the bathroom door and open it.

"Need some help with your back, lovely?" I ask.

He's stunned at first, not expecting me to interrupt his shower time. Then he speaks, "I could use some help, your timing is impeccable," and passes the soap.

I step behind him, grabbing the bar. I start with his back, rubbing it with the soap bar, and with my knuckles. I feel he's less tense with every second under my touch.

He has a nice body, toned, and young. A little too muscular for my taste, and his cock is circumcised which I don't like in particular. I don't lose too much time looking, though, because I'm in need of contact, urgently. My own cock is erect since I've pressed him to that brick wall, and my balls start hurting, so I'm quick to run the soap bar over his entrance and shove two fingers inside him before he can say my name.

Not that he knows my name, I realize, while I twirl my digits in his hole, helping his muscles to relax. I add some more of the foam and I start moving my fingers in and out, preparing him. I hear his breathing has changed, and his eyes are closed. Soon, he changes his position himself, bending and using the wall for leverage. Now he's willingly given me better access to his hole, and I use the situation to add a third finger and push deeper. A grunt signals he needs time to readjust, so I wait, absolutely still, until he uses one of his hands to reach for his asscheek, grabbing at it and giving me even better access. I'm quick to extract my fingers and unpack the condom. I can't take my eyes off his gaping entrance, the view renders me slightly mad. Some more soap, circling the inviting hole; I hardly restrain myself from sliding the bar in and watching it disappear inside his body, while I pump my erection. But I don't do it, no; instead, I generously use the lube, dress my cock, position its tip, and push.

Oh, fuck, fuck, this feels so good.

Finally.

I stand, waiting for my knees to start obeying me; because for a moment I feel like I'm floating, like I've lost contact with the floor, like part of my legs is missing. Soon I'm back in control of my body, steadily standing on the ground, and start to thrust. Slowly at first, massaging his back, and quickening my pace in a while. I watch his wet, glistening skin, and can't help but scratch at it, leaving three parallel red lines across, marking that this body is mine to serve my needs for the night. He whimpers while my nails are in contact with his flesh. I silence him, sticking my middle finger in his mouth. "Shush, lovely," I whisper, and I bend to kiss the mark, drinking some of the droplets of water from his back. I thrust harder, with my cock in his ass and my finger in his mouth, simultaneously. I feel his wet tongue and meet its tip with the pad of my finger, tickling it. I already anticipate what that tongue will feel like, licking my balls.

I like the thought of it so much, I need to take him to bed, immediately.

"Okay, lovely; up," I order, helping him stand before me. I step out of the shower and grab a towel. When I'm done drying his and mine bodies off, I lead him to the room, and to the bed, making him lay down. Then I straddle his face, and shudder in delight when he starts licking my balls without an invitation. Clever boy, he is. And has a skilled tongue. Now I'm imagining his tongue twirling around my head, so I shift my body backwards. I can't help but slap across his face with my cock, because he's looking at me, straight in the eye, mouth agape and waiting to suck. I give him what he's waiting for, and let him bob his head at his own pace, until I feel the urge to imply my rhythm.

This is the moment when I close my eyes and start thrusting again.

This is also the moment when I start imagining I'm fucking Edward's mouth. And I suddenly realize I want to be kind, and caring. I fuck Riley Biers for the rest of the evening pretending he's a bronze haired, handsome young doctor from Forks.

I'm delicate because I'm convinced he's delicate. I'm gentle because I'm convinced he's gentle. I make love with him because I'm convinced he's in love with me.

_How fucked up is this exactly,_ I ask myself after Riley leaves, and Edward's face is the last thing I see before I fall asleep. _How fucked up am I?_


	13. Chapter 13

Hi, my friends, as promised - today's update.

You all know how I feel toward my lovely ladies, Lou and Nancy.

SM owns.

**Chapter 13**

**Edward's POV**

It's early in the morning, and the corridors of the police station are empty. I'm waiting for the time of my meeting with Chief Swan to come. The clock on the wall ticks slowly as I watch the Chief through the glass door and see him waving his hands in a heated conversation with a man and a woman. I don't see their faces, but I see a face on a leaflet placed on the desk, with huge letters saying this is an image of a certain Riley Biers. He must be wanted or missing, I muse, and now I see the Chief is nodding his head in affirmation of something he has just said, determination clearly written on his face. My fingers drum a rhythm over the off-white wall behind my back while I absentmindedly recall fragmented scenes from the past weeks, and count the ticking seconds somewhere in the back of my mind.

My thoughts are disrupted by footsteps somewhere to my right, echoing in the emptiness of the white corridor. I lazily turn my head to see who's approaching – it's a big guy who seems oddly familiar. It takes a second or two, watching him lean against the wall next to me, and crossing his arms in front of his huge chest, for me to recognize him. I saw him in the hospital, on the day my Jasper disappeared.

Of course, I try to guess the reason for the huge guy to be here, at this ungodly hour, but nothing serious comes to mind. He doesn't look like someone who has been robbed or assaulted. He only looks sad, and I think he has shrunk a little since I last saw him.

A hundred and twenty-eight ticks later, Chief Swan and his visitors stand, and he gestures to the glass door to see them out.

_About time__._ I smirk, thinking the huge guy will have to wait a bit more, until after I'm finished with my confession to the Chief.

The man and woman leave the office, followed by my future confessor. To my surprise, the chief summons both me and my silent companion, pointing a finger to each of us and then to the glass door.

"Mr. McCarty, Doctor Cullen," he says, "please be seated."

The three of us sit around the desk. The leaflet with Riley Biers' face is shoved aside, and the Chief runs a finger through his moustache. Left to right, left to right, I hear the noise of the tiny hairs scratching against his fingernail, and suddenly my stomach turns.

_What if he doesn't cooperate? What if he judges my unethical behavior and refuses to listen? And why the hell is this guy present?_

The Chief finally speaks. "So, Mr. McCarty, you seek my cooperation to track down _Miss_ Hale, and you, Doctor, want to get in touch with _Mr__._ Hale, is this correct?"

The 'Miss' and 'Mr.' are emphasized, and sound as if they have at least five 's-'s each.

At this point, the huge guy and I snap our heads and stare at each other. There's a glint in his eye, and dimples form on his cheeks when he smiles. He wriggles an eyebrow, and then I hear his booming voice for the first time.

"Sounds like fun. Now we're definitely forming a search party." He slaps his enormous palm over the desk, and Riley's leaflet flies a bit farther aside. I can't help but return the smile; this guy's enthusiasm is contagious.

The Chief rises to his feet with a startling growl.

"Right, young men, cut the bullshit. We're not a goddamn dating agency here. Your urges to simply _meet_ someone are irrelevant to my job. Give me at least one good reason to start a new investigation, or I'll kick you out of my office. Both of you."

Then, Emmett McCarty tells a story about Jasper Hale's insurance fraud, and Rosalie and Alice Hale's participation in the plot.

It's sort of funny how The Miss had him wrapped around her finger…

It's sort of sad how The Mister had me…

_Having a good laugh up there? Fucking Evil Bitch,_ I curse in my mind, not even bothering to look at the ceiling. She knows I'm addressing her. _Bitch._

It appears that their accomplice, Tyler Crowley, has messed up. His vehicle somehow misbehaved, and instead of giving Jasper a gentle push, it knocked him unconscious, broken ribs and all.

"Now, this is serious," Chief Swan says. "I wonder… it can't be a coincidence if this vehicle malfunctioned twice, considering he caused a minor injury to my daughter, too… It never occurred to me the two cases were connected. Jasper Hale never mentioned Tyler… I couldn't find anything incriminating actually..." The finger runs over the moustache once again. "Yes, this is serious."

Chief Swan sits back and focuses on me. "What's your story, Dr. Cullen? Your voice sounded strange when you called last night."

It's my turn to tell about my time with Jasper, and admit I was the means for his escape before the end of the police investigation about the accident. I see now I've almost become his accomplice. But in the Chief's eyes, I'm innocent.

'Cause it wasn't me who took Jasper out of the ICU. Now I learn it was Emmett, and an operation to rescue Jasper _from me_ has been orchestrated by Alice Hale - if we can trust what Emmett has been told.

"Well, I have news for you, gentlemen," the Chief says. "Something I learned a couple of days ago and thought of no importance, with the Hales gone from our city. There's actually no Alice Hale - the lady's name is Alice Brandon, and Jasper Hale has never been married."

_Awesome. Why am I not happy?_

"Let's summarize, gents. Those three recruit Tyler Crowley for a staged car accident, attempting insurance fraud. For some reason, the injuries to Jasper Hale are more serious than expected. He's kept for weeks in the hospital, not able to flee from my investigation. He uses Dr. Cullen to plan his escape. At the same time, Alice Brandon and Rosalie Hale make a different plan, not trusting Jasper's. They ally with Mr. McCarty to drag Mr. Hale out of the hospital, and break his contact with the Doctor. Okay, erm, _confusing _doesn't even begin to describe the situation."

I suddenly remember the nurse who introduced herself as Jane, and the excessive amount of pills which could have killed Jasper.

"Chief, I have to add to it. I think someone was trying to kill him in that last day. I mean, _really _kill him. He almost got poisoned at the hospital; he might have died in my hands. Don't you think we need to hurry up?"

"Yes, we need to." The Chief scratches his neck. "And maybe someone tried to _really _kill him in the car accident, too."

My boy is in actual danger, I realize. He's not only out of my reach. He might be already dead.

The Chief obviously tries to grab at the situation at its whole. He sniffs a couple of times, bites the inside of his cheek and scratches at his neck once more, until he finally speaks again.

"And why did you decide to call me last night, gentlemen? Why not a week earlier?"

Emmett takes a noisy breath and straightens his shoulders. "Maybe it's the new moon. I couldn't stand being left behind any more. I miss her. I want to see her again."

Then it's my turn.

"Same here," I mutter, focused on my shoe - because I can't look them in the eye - physically feeling redness crawling over my ears. "I miss him. But last night I thought he didn't want me. Now, I'm not sure."


	14. Chapter 14

**Thursday!**

My lovely lovely readers, thank you SO much for your reviews. You're inspiring.  
Chapter pre-read by Lou and betaed by Nancy; characters owned by SM.

**Chapter 14**

Chief Swan knows the right people.

After a few phone calls, we learn that last night Jasper Hale used his credit card to pay for three rooms in a motel near Seattle.

"Off we go." Emmett's voice is high-pitched with excitement. "If they checked in yesterday, there's a good chance they're still there."

I don't share the enthusiasm to the same extent, but yet, my heart suddenly beats faster.

Now what? Do I want to see him, actually?

Being betrayed, being played with, can this be undone? Can I overcome the bitter taste in my mouth when I think about him?

Truth be told, I desperately want to see him. I want to beat the living shit out of him first, then fuck him into oblivion, and then kiss those immaculate lips for hours. Yes, in that order.

And, after I'm finished with him, I'd let him speak and explain. Maybe he had a reason to disappear and never call…

"Let's go, Chief." Emmett jumps from one foot to the other. He reminds me of a child begging for a treat. "Why are we wasting time? Go start that cruiser."

"Are you out of your mind?" Chief Swan cuts him off. "Seattle is out of my jurisdiction. I can't be of any more help."

_Well, of course. Why not le__t us cope with a bunch of criminals on our own._

"But won't you pursue them for insurance fraud?"

"I have no reason. They haven't committed a crime here in Forks. Their plan didn't work, they couldn't sue Tyler because of their premature escape. In fact, the way things turned out, they can sue _you_, Mr. McCarty, for kidnapping Mr. Hale. Have you thought about that?"

"No way!" Emmett shakes his head. "You can't be serious, Sir."

"Oh yes, I am, young man. I have yet to investigate the mishaps with that vehicle, but I can do nothing else for you right now. I'll be with you in my thoughts."

Dismissing us with one swift movement of his hand, Chief Swan slides the Riley Biers leaflet back to the center of the desk and digs into the moustache. He's no longer looking at us when he says, "Go, and keep me updated."

Emmett and I step out of the building, not knowing what to say to each other. It's still early in the morning. The first rays of sun reflect off the rooftops of the few cars in the parking lot, and one of them shines alluringly. It's my silver Volvo, inviting me to make myself comfortable in the driver's seat and step on that gas pedal.

"Guess it's the two of us now." I break the silence. "There's my car. We can be there in a few hours."

Make that three hours. I didn't even look at the mileage. I knew I was driving fast, and it felt like flying.

And then, bang, we're in front of a motel door. I'm shivering and cursing, the hairs on my neck stand, and my lips are numb because I'm squeezing them too hard.

It's either minutes or hours before I knock. When the door opens, there he stands, and 'oooh' doesn't even begin to describe him… Wearing only a towel around his waist, a droplet of water hanging from one of his million eyelashes, he freezes on the spot, mouth agape, eyes widely open. His chest doesn't move, and at the same time, I realize mine isn't moving either – we have stopped breathing.

I hate him, from the bottom of my heart.

I hate him. For being so beautiful. For rendering me so weak. For misleading me. I hate him for his existence.

Emmett abandons my side, mumbling "Not Rosalie". I can't blame him. He's off in search of another door.

Jasper pulls my sleeve and drags me inside, and I kick the door closed. Then I punch, hard. He whines, as I've hit where his ribs have just healed, maybe breaking one or two of them again. He falls to his knees; I grab at his hair and pull with all the strength I have left. I pull some more, turning turn his face toward me, and my free hand flies to his jaw. The sound is excruciating; he spits blood. I'm still tugging at his hair. It's no more silken, and it burns my palm. I let go. I bend, grabbing his shoulders, and my knee finds his torso. I hold him tightly so he doesn't fall, but he starts cursing.

"Shit, shit, shit, Edward, stop it, for fuck's -" A fountain of blood from his mouth interrupts him mid-sentence.

"Do you want me to stop, Jasper?" I hiss. "Really?" Yeah, I'm sarcastic.

He nods, swallowing his own blood and spit.

"Okay, I'll stop." I let go of his shoulders. He sits on his heels, hiding his face in his palms. "Look at me, Jasper."

His beautiful face is uncovered, eyes wide open again to meet my gaze.

Tears stream down his cheeks, and I almost feel pity for him. Almost.

"I was supposed to give you a blowjob, remember?" I hear a hiccup. "Do you remember, Jasper? And now, I only want to give you a good beating, turn you into a mess, because you're so beautiful, you son of a bitch, and I can't stop loving you!" I'm shouting, and I kick his torso again because this whole thing is out of my control. I shouldn't have come here.

I suddenly realize the towel around his waist is undone and fallen to the ground. He's stark naked, sobbing in my feet.

_My baby is crying…_ I can't stop the thought.

_Shush, you. He's the enemy. We're enemies._

"Edward, please." I hear through his sobs.

_Edward is not going to please you, Jasper. Edward wants his revenge._

A sudden rush of adrenaline fills my muscles with unsuspected strength. I lift his body and carry him to the bed. While I lay him down, he watches me in total disbelief. I undo the buckle of my belt, and not even trying to pull my trousers all the way down, I straddle him and roughly place the head of my semi-erect cock over his lips.

"Suck," I shout. "Suck me!"

I know I nearly broke his jaw, and it probably hurts to open his mouth, but he does it. He parts his lips slowly, and in the next moment, I watch half of my cock disappear.

I've dreamt so many times of this.

But not in this way. Not this fucking way…

Now we're both shedding tears, and for reasons unknown, I'm fully aroused. I fuck his mouth like it's my last moment on Earth. I want to pour my hatred down his throat, have him swallow it and make it disappear. I despise him and I love him. I focus on his full lips. His eyes are closed and he looks as if he's asleep, like he's back in that hospital bed, unconscious. But this time, I know I'm hurting him, and I can't stop myself from fucking that mouth.

When I come, I shout.

"Look at me, Jasper! Look at me, you bastard! I loved you! I… Shit! I love you." I pull out, and my semen covers his neck and collarbones.

Contrasting my screams, his voice comes low, almost a whisper.

"I love you, too, Edward. That's why I had to disappear."

I jump to my feet and pick up the towel. I have to clean off my own cum, his blood and saliva, and any trace of this whole act of nonsense. I put my pants back on, then sit on the floor next to the bed, while he still lies naked, all messed up in our body fluids, and probably in pain.

"Yeah? Well, Jasper, care to elaborate?"

Now, I'm ready to listen.


	15. Chapter 15

**Thursday!**

Chapter pre-read by Lou and betaed by Nancy - these ladies are a blessing; characters owned by SM.

**Chapter 15**

"Edward, I've gotta ask two favors first."

My head snaps - he has the audacity to have requests? While I dwell on the option to yell at him or rather hit again, he quickly continues. "Please. I don't think I can get out of bed right now. My chest hurts like hell, and I seemingly have bitten the inside of my cheek; I have to swallow my own blood. I'm only asking you to cover me with a blanket, and also bring me a glass of water."

I silently rise up and drag my feet to the adjacent bathroom, absentmindedly recollecting what my textbooks said. _Although the mouth is the most contaminated part of the human body, blood cells kill the bacteria and help tissue regenerate; saliva speeds wound healing; oral mucosa heals faster than skin; he'll recuperate in just about a week._ I move like a robot, dragging my feet back until I stand by his bed again, a glassful of water in my hand.

This whole thing, it's surreal. If someone were to draw a painting of us, it'd probably resemble a modernistic canvas of black and white patches crossed with a sharp red streak – the white and black being him and I, as distant and opposite as can be, and the red depicting the blood still resident on the tip of his tongue while he licks his dry lips. I bend to place the glass over the nightstand, mentally preparing myself to hold him once again, and help him drink.

But… shit…the room blurs. Oh, shit… I can't feel my fingers…

A wave of dizziness wipes away the image of my still naked and uncovered Jasper, replacing it with white sparkling snowflakes over cool gray solid background. Together with the electrical buzz in my ears, I hear a heavy thud, registering in the back of my mind that the ground has slipped from under my feet and I've fallen. I've heard my own body hit the ground, I realize - or was it my head smashed against the floor? The dizziness won't go away. I hear the tribal dance rhythm hitting my temples, and then I let go. A dense black curtain falls and separates me from the rest of the world.

Next, strong hands are shaking me. "Fuck's sake, dude, tell me you're with me," a voice booms, then a tiny slap on my cheek produces the final effect of waking me up. "Look, Rose, he's trying to open his eyes." They're shaking me again. "C'mon, Edward, what's wrong?"

I manage a grunt. "Let go, Emmett," 'cause right now, I'm sure I don't need to wake up. I need to be left alone, curled up on the floor in a fetal position, pure and innocent as an infant, reborn.

But it strikes me; re-birth is not happening. There lies Jasper, his ribs injured again, his story untold and truth unspoken. Emmett finds Jasper's towel and tucks it under my head. It's soft and wet, and smells of my cum. I come back to the world with a deep sigh, and with a realization.

I've been out of my mind; kicking him, injuring him again, hurting him even more by fucking his mouth, while he lay helpless and bleeding.

I'm a bad person. No, I'm a monster.

"Edward."

Oh my god, is _he_ really addressing me?

"Are you alright, my love? Edward? Talk to me, please."

_What? _I'm dumbfounded, rendered speechless.

"He's gonna be alright," Emmett answers instead. "Obviously, he fainted."

Someone is pressing a cold, wet cloth against my forehead. I manage to keep my eyes open for a bit longer, and even lift my head a little so I can have a good look at my surroundings.

They have covered him with a blanket. It was probably Alice, who stands beside the bed, arms crossed in front of her chest. Emmett is kneeling next to me, half hiding a wide-eyed and visibly shaking Rosalie. Jasper has turned his head my way and fixates me with his blue eyes.

"Jasper, can you move a little to the right?" Emmett asks, causing us to break eye-contact.

"Sure," Jasper says and makes an effort. He hisses, and I know he's in pain, but they surely don't know it. Maybe they wonder why he won't get up.

Or maybe they don't? Did he tell them how I treated him?

He manages a few inches, turning on his side, and then Emmett lifts me and places me in bed, next to Jasper, tucking us both under the same blanket.

_…Holy mother of all heavenly things on earth, I'm snuggled against his chest. Why isn't he kicking me out?_

"You two, will you kiss and make up now?" Emmett says.

_Ah, dude, you think life is that simple?_

_Oh wait, for him, maybe it is. For Jasper and I, not so much, unfortunately._

"No more fighting, hear me?" Emmett goes on, not waiting for confirmation. "Us three are going to grab some food and will be back with you in an hour or two. C'mon, Alice, let's move."

He urges the ladies toward the exit. "Jasper, no one will hear you yelling for help this time," he says, and closes the door from the outside.

"You called them?" I can't believe I didn't hear his voice – I must have really blacked out.

"Yeah, I did. I couldn't move, I'm useless. Hurts like a bitch, by the way."

"I need to examine you. A tad later, though, I'm still dizzy." It also feels so good to have my forehead pressed to his warm body.

"Edward, when did you last eat?" His finger touches my cheek, and it feels startling and nice. It takes me a while to form an answer.

"Yesterday," I say, not sure about the exact hour.

"You shouldn't forget to feed, my love. I saw the black circles under your eyes." The finger draws a line to my temple and stops, gently rubbing a spot behind my ear.

"Wait a minute, Jasper." I hate to interrupt his ministrations, but I have to shift my head and look him in the eye. "Aren't you mad at me?"

"No. I'm not. And I want you, badly."

"So you really aren't into women, uh?"

"Not at all."

_Right. I knew it, anyway._

"Okay. Speak. Why did you let me believe I was the first man to awake your feelings?"

"In a way, you are a first. I've never really loved anyone before I met you."

Apparently self-conscious, Jasper averts his gaze, allowing me a moment to comprehend.

"But you've had many, um –"

"Let's say, plenty." He's speaking to the wall, and quietly. I understand why he doesn't want to meet my gaze at this moment. "Plenty of men, plenty of places."

"Okay, I see." It's not easy to swallow the truth, though. "Back to question one. Why did you mislead me?"

"I was afraid of you at first, Edward."

He turns his face back to me, gauging my expression.

"You… what?"

"You said you'd fallen in love with me while I was unconscious, and it freaked me out. I didn't know how to react. I thought you were a psycho, actually. At first, I wanted to keep you away."

"Fair enough. Your body gave up on you, though. You got aroused under my touch." I snigger, bringing up the happy memories.

"True fact. I've been affected by you, one way or another."

"Now, why did you let me plot your escape?"

"I couldn't walk out of the hospital just like that, could I? Not without raising suspicion. My situation was… well, delicate, so to say."

"No, I mean, why did you need _me_ when Rosalie had that other plan?"

"Ha! But I didn't know about Rosalie's plan."

My chin drops.

All the time since his disappearance I thought he had played with me.

"Yes, Edward, I intended to escape with you, I was so happy with your plan. Remember how good it worked, until we got to the ICU?"

"It did! But then I had to go grab that monitor, and when I came back, you were gone! Puff! Disappeared!"

Without realizing it, I'm yelling at him, rage building inside me once again.

"That's when Rosalie opened my eyes about a fact I hadn't taken into consideration…" He keeps quiet for a while, a sigh coming almost inaudibly from his lips. "We didn't earn a dime in Forks. I couldn't pay for my treatment. And those were quite a few days of hospital stay."

"But how did disappearing help? I guess you still owe that money?"

"Nah… Emmett paid. For that to happen, he had to be allowed to believe he was helping Rosalie's brother who was in an unstable mental condition. Also, he was told he was saving me from you, an obsessed doctor."

Holy shit.

"I could have paid, you know." I prefer not to focus on what he just said. I'll think it over later.

"I wouldn't have let you. That's why I chose to finally stick with Rose's plan."

"Why wouldn't you let me? You used me unscrupulously, anyway." My words add a bitter taste in my mouth. But I know I'm speaking the truth.

"Because in that last day, I admitted to myself I loved you. And I couldn't use you any more - I didn't want to give you the chance to even suggest any more help. That's why it was only fair to disappear."

I see his Adam's apple move under his skin when he gulps several times.

"You're an idiot," I say, and snuggle closer to his chest. "My family has tons of money."

"Excuse me, Edward, but it's you being the idiot here. That's not how it works. We can't be together when I can't make a living. Don't you get it? I won't be your gigolo."

"But you say you love me, Jasper?"

"Yes, Edward, I love you, but a relationship between us stands no chance."

**A/N:** Urgh. Will these two have their HEA, what do you think?


End file.
